


It's Raining Snowmen

by julesherondalex



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Love, Mild Smut, Romantic Fluff, Snow, Snowmen, Winter, elriel secret santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 04:22:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17134865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julesherondalex/pseuds/julesherondalex
Summary: Elain and Azriel spend their day building snowmen together. Things get a little out of control when Azriel's cockiness rubs Elain's stubborn self the wrong way.





	It's Raining Snowmen

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all ❄️🖤⛄
> 
> First of all, happy holidays to each and every one of you!
> 
> This little one-shot was written for the Secret Santa Exchange – organized by my fave @rosehallshadowsinger on tumblr ❤️ It's not my first attempt of writing, but it’s the first I’ve ever posted, and I hope it isn’t too bad. I’m dedicating this to my Secret Santa @girlnovels (also on tumblr) 🙊
> 
> Enjoy! 🖤

“You want to build a snowman. With me,” Azriel stated with an incredulous tone to his voice.

Elain huffed and crossed her arms across her chest. “Why is that so unbelievable? My sisters and I used to build snowmen when we were children all the time. It was fun.”

Azriel still didn’t seem convinced.

“When you were _children_. You’re an adult now. I don’t think adults build snowmen,” he teased, one brow rising cockily with the hint of a grin playing along his lips.

Elain narrowed her eyes at the shadowsinger.

“Do I have to remind you of your annual snowball fights with Rhys and Cass where you spend hours tumbling in the snow? Didn’t you just turn 528 a month ago, Azriel? That sounds pretty adult to me.”

Azriel grinned sheepishly. “That’s a tradition. Besides, those pricks wouldn’t have real competition if it weren’t for me,“ he added rather smugly.

Elain snorted. “Oh, so you’re just doing them a favor then.”

Azriel shrugged as if to say yes, while his eyes twinkled with amusement. Elain stood to her feet and grabbed his scarred hand in a determined manner, trying to tug him out of where he was comfortably seated in the armchair.

They were alone in the sitting room of Rhys and Feyre’s river estate, just having finished with dinner. Feyre had given the wraiths a day off and declared she would cook for the family. Elain could hear her and Rhys rummaging in the kitchen, while trying to tame their little boy at the same time.

Her nephew had just learned to walk and he was a troublemaker all the way, having wrapped his parents entirely around those chubby little fingers of his.

So Feyre was out of question for what Elain had desired to do during this particular evening, where snow had finally fallen in heavy chunks out of Prythian’s sky. Not only was it beautiful to behold – the snow covered the entire street with several feet high white and fluffy heaven.

As much as Elain loved warmth and all the flowers thriving from it, she hadn’t been able to resist snow since her childhood. Those were the happier memories from her mortal life. Her mother had been alive then, too.

However, she needed a companion to fulfil her wish of building a snowman and reviving those times.

She could have considered Nesta, though asking her seemed beyond question right now. The eldest Archeron was not quite addressable ever since her mating with the bulky Illyrian. Cassian had been grovelling for years and when Nesta finally – to their mutual relief – gave in, the pair had become inseparable. In the most literal sense.

They hadn’t even waited long enough for everyone’s meals to be finished; quickly stuffing their faces with the – rather unsavory – food Feyre had managed to cook, Nesta and Cassian had flown out of the house, no doubt going after their business somewhere not-so-private. They could go at it for hours. Elain pitied whoever was poor enough to have to listen to them.

“Come on, Az,” she whined now, “Do _me_ a favour and build a snowman with me.”

Azriel feigned a dreadful sigh, and Elain knew she had won.

Her heart fluttered with excitement when he stood from his seat and let her pull him out of the room. He had always trouble denying her – something Elain had secretly cherished all the years they knew each other now.

Az was … Az was something else. And he was her best friend.

All this time since the war had passed, and day by day they seemed to grow closer. Elain still remembered the beginnings of their timid friendship; so fragile one wrong move, a careless word, could have blown it away. Though now, they were stronger than ever.

But it still felt like something was missing. Maybe because Elain had always known that deep down she yearned for more.

Discerning the ever recurring thoughts concerning her dwelling feelings towards the shadowsinger from her mind, Elain reached for Azriel’s coat and handed it to him. She donned her own cloak and pulled the soft leather gloves – Azriel had gifted them to her this Solstice – over her small hands.

When she looked up at him, Azriel tugged a warm, knitted beanie over her head; adjusting it around her hair and cupping her cheeks in the motion. Elain’s breathing halted when their eyes met.

Damn him, for having such a beautiful pair; they had the audacity to steal her breath away while piercing their way through her heart.

With a flick to her nose, Azriel grinned and,

“Ready?”

…

Not an hour later Elain panted slightly and rubbed her frozen, glove-clad hands together. They had ended up deciding to build two snowmen and making a competition out of the whole act.

And of course, Azriel’s result was better than hers. _Of course_.

“That’s not fair,” Elain complained, trying to stick a carrot in the middle of her snowman’s face. It wouldn’t stick.

She turned to ogle Azriel’s perfect exemplar. He was expertly smoothing out the uneven edges of the large, white body.

“You had about 500 years more to train this.” She tried to fix the carrot again. Cauldron boil her, had her snowman iced?

Azriel shot her an amused look. “Oh, come on. Don’t be a sore loser, El.” He even dared to chuckle at her sour glance. She was glad her cheeks were already blushing from the cold, or her face would have shown just how much she liked his use of nickname.

“I’m neither sore nor am I the loser of this competition. We’re not done here,” she announced rather stubbornly and would have rammed the carrot into place for emphasis, hadn’t Azriel grabbed it from her fingers so fast, it was impossible to catch with the naked eye.

Before she could intervene, the Illyrian was out of her reach and bit into the half-frozen vegetable, chewing noisily and cockily grinning at her. “Good luck then.”

Elain gasped. “Oh, you’re going to pay for that!”

Instead of going for his perfect snowman and stealing the carrot out of its nose like he expected, Elain grabbed the topmost globe she had been working on as the head – it even had knobs as eyes – and threw it at the male. She barely felt the weight with her Fae strength.

He hadn’t seen _that_ coming, it seemed, because in a matter of seconds the chunk of pressed snow hit him square in the face – covering his hair and the upper half of his body before Azriel could even attempt to escape the impact.

Elain gasped and her hands flew up to her mouth in an attempt to stifle the urge to burst into a fit of laughter.

She had no idea why exactly she’d ruined her own snowman in such a hasty impulse – Gods knew she’d worked hard to make that one. All Elain knew was that it had been even funnier to surprise Azriel for once and wipe that cocky grin off his face.

Azriel moved to slowly brush the snow out of his eyes, and shot a blank stare toward the honeyed-hair female, meaning nothing but trouble.

“When this is over, remember you were the one starting it,” his voice echoed with a dangerous quiet that sent Elain’s skin tingling.

Everything developed into a frenzied chaos after that: Azriel lunged for his own snowman, ripping the perfect head of its perfect body without thinking twice. This, Elain had seen coming; she didn’t hesitate before jumping into the cover of her own snowman, letting out a small yelp doing so.

She had barely ducked behind what was left of her precious work when the head flew past her, hardly missing her side. Azriel didn’t stop with that; it took a couple seconds and there was an onslaught of snowballs firing at Elain and her headless snowman.

Azriel worked so quick, she had only managed to fire more than a few balls of snow at him – failing to hit him every time – still wildly grinning through the hammering of her heart against her chest.

Just as fast as it started, his snowballs ceased until there was nothing coming her way anymore. Elain waited for a minute; then grabbed her own chunks and rose to her feet.

Ducking out of her cover, she tried to steal a glance at Azriel, but the male was gone. Where had he …?

“Are you looking for someone?” Azriel breathed against her neck. Elain let her snowballs fall in surprise; she hadn’t even heard the male sneaking up on her stealthily – spymaster indeed. Trying to escape the shadowsinger’s vengeance Elain attempted to run off, but it was too late.

Azriel’s arm had already snaked around her waist, holding her back to his chest as his hand smeared soft snow all over her face – making it cling to her eye lashes and collect in the hollow of her throat.

She could feel Azriel’s chest vibrate with laughter against her back, hear the gloriously deep sound so very close now.

Instead of trashing in his hold, Elain leaned further back into him – she could have sworn his breathing hitched – and turned around in his arms, pressing what was left of the snow in her hands against his cheeks.

Azriel’s both arms held her to him now, while he let her smush his face between her two hands. Elain couldn’t help but join in on his laughter, feeling incredible happiness surge through her system. _This_ , she thought, _I want this forever_.

When the laughter subsided, they were left staring at each other, still huge grins upon their faces and Elain’s fingers covering his cheeks. As the seconds passed by, her heartbeat increased until she feared Azriel might feel it through their chests – they were _that_ close. And with the piercing look in his eyes, she felt all the heat return to her body and her core tighten.

Elain moved to withdraw from him, from this unbelievably beautiful male – inside and out – she couldn’t help but love with all her heart and want with every fibre of her being. She couldn’t handle a rejection. Not now. Not in such a memorable moment.

At first, Azriel didn’t try to stop her when she removed herself from him, but as if something had clicked in his mind, he practically launched himself at her before she could leave the safety of his embrace.

In his haste of keeping her glued to his body, the over-500-years-old-Illyrian managed to lose his footing in the snow. Elain stumbled against him, grasping the lapels of his coat and waited for the impact of falling to the ground.

It never came.

Breathing out in relief, Elain thought what a cliché it would have been, to slip and fall to the ground with him – better yet, falling on top of him – when Azriel leaned in and kissed her and all the thoughts fled from her head.

He _kissed_ her.

It was a firm peck to her mouth, during which Elain thought that no matter how hard he’d kiss her, those soft lips of his would always feel like they were pillowing her own.

Azriel pulled back and gazed at her with hot emotion burning in his heavy-lidded hazel eyes. Elain could all but stare back in a moment of pure shock.

_Gods_ , he had kissed her, he … _wanted_ her.

Whatever Azriel had seen in her expression then, it made him surge right back in.

This time Elain followed, meeting his lips halfway, and almost immediately opening her mouth for him, letting his tongue roam and claim her in the most passionate way.

The throaty groan he uttered only kindled her fire and she pushed even closer, meeting his hard chest with her soft one, wanting to melt with him and forever stay in that embrace.

She had never felt emotion like this; a desire so daring, Elain barely noticed the strength in her body when she pressed into him. He must have been in the same haze because that forceful movement made him lose his footing again, only this time … they fell. And as the Cauldron willed, Elain landed on top of him, fulfilling the cliché at last.

Despite herself and the burning want in her veins, Elain burst into laughter, her teeth grazing his chin in the process. Soon enough Azriel joined her with that toe-curlingly deep sound of his until her stomach hurt and the back of her neck strained from keeping her head up. Elain let her cheek meet his chest and sighed in bliss.

They had kissed. Azriel had kissed _her_.

“I must confess,” he rumbled now, giving her all the spine-shivering with the need still audible in his voice, “I think you rather won this competition.”

Elain lifted her chin to rest against his chest and looked up at him. “I threw the head of my poor snowman at you, remember?”

His lips curled into a heated grin, Elain had never thought she’d see directed at her.

“You have me tackled to the ground. I think that counts for something.” He dragged his hands over her back, and Elain could feel the heat in them, almost felt his scars glide across her skin. Gods, she couldn’t wait to feel them all over her body.

As if he had read her thoughts, Azriel’s eyes darkened.

“What about another competition?” he dared, his hands descending dangerously close to her rear.

“I’m all ears,” Elain whispered. She already yearned to have that seductive mouth of his against her own.

“No,” Azriel rasped, “Lips. This is all about lips.”

Elain could feel the stretch of said lips into a wicked smile. “Only that?”

Azriel’s hands dragged lower until they cupped her rear at last. With a soft sigh, Elain reached back and grabbed one of his hands. She brought his fingers to her mouth and kissed one of his scars.

“I want hands, too. _Your_ hands,” she raspily demanded.

The Illyrian growled, his eyes the color of molten amber and burning spots of gold. His voice sounded like it was being dragged over gravel when he all but grunted,

“As you wish.”

Without wasting time and giving Elain a moment to collect herself, Azriel grabbed her body tightly and shot to the skies, wings unfurling in all their glory.

As they flew, Elain thought that there had been more between them after all. And she would think about what this meant, what he felt for her later.

Right now, all she wanted was for him to melt the snow from her body with the fire of his touch alone.


End file.
